His Worst Nightmare
by UnattemptedFeat
Summary: Sherlock has a dream, and it scares him.


**Author's Note** **\- This little one-shot is based loosely on a dream my mom had about me. She had it twice, and suffice to say, it freaked her out. She said she almost stormed into my room at two in the morning to tell me off. It was hilarious.**

 **Hope you like it and are able to enjoy the imagination of my mother.**

Elizabeth stomped into the flat, "Dad!"

"Yes." Sherlock didn't look up from John's laptop. He was busy writing up an article for his website. He was sure people would find learning about soil samples incredibly interesting, take that John's blog.

"Dad!" Elizabeth screamed again. Did she have to talk at such a volume? Sherlock rolled his eyes and looked up.

Elizabeth was standing over him covered in more piercings than he had ever seen on a human body. Her arms were covered in tattoos, most saying obscene things. She smelled of cigarrette smoke and alcohol. Her pupils were dilated.

What the hell was going on?!

Elizabeth crossed her arms, "Dad, I'm pregnant. I'm running away with Roscoe. Give me money, and I'll be out of here in twenty minutes."

"Now wait just a moment!" Sherlock didn't know what to think.

Elizabeth sighed, rolling her eyes. She held out her hand expectantly. "Dad, give me money. Roscoe and I need drugs. The baby is going to need them too."

Sherlock shook his head. He didn't understand. This wasn't Elizabeth. This wasn't his daughter. But there she was right in front of him.

His little girl. Pierced, painted, and pregnant.

This couldn't be happening.

It was Sherlock's worst nightmare. He had failed as a father. Somehow his daughter had spiraled into something he'd hoped she'd never be. Where had he been when she had decided to do drugs? Had he ignored the signs of her alcohol usage? Had he been neglecting her?

His little girl. Where was the Elizabeth he knew? The one who was strong enough to withstand peer pressure. The one who just wanted to find true love. The one who thought he was brilliant. The one who wanted to be a doctor so she could save lives. When had she disappeared? When had this thing in front of him taken his daughter away?

He heard someone calling his name, and then something hit him in the side of the head.

Sherlock snapped awake. The union jack pillow that had glanced off of his head now lay on the floor. He looked up to see John standing over him.

"Are you okay, Sherlock?" John asked, concerned. "You looked like you were having a nightmare."

Sherlock desperately needed to confirm that it wasn't real. It couldn't be real. "I had a dream that Elizabeth was running away with some boy. She told me that she was pregnant, and that she needed money for drugs."

"Oh, that reminds me," John opened the door wider, revealing a stroller with a baby in it. "Elizabeth and Roscoe asked us to watch Snake for the day." The baby looked like pure evil. It had red eyes and wore a spiky dog collar.

Sherlock awoke again with a yell. Was it over yet? Was this just another dream?

He bolted out of bed, sprinting for his daughter's room. Sherlock burst into her room, but no one was there. He panicked, what if it had all been true? He raced to the living room, hoping Elizabeth had just fallen asleep somewhere else. No one was in the living room. He cursed loudly, running for John's room.

"John!" He yelled as soon as he entered the room. The soldier rolled over and put his pillow over his head. "John! Wake up, John! Where is Elizabeth? She's not here!"

John sat up groggily, scrubbing at his eyes, "Sherlock, Elizabeth went to that concert in Regent's Park. She won't be back until four."

Sherlock let out a huge sigh of relief. Elizabeth was safe, she was okay.

"Sherlock, are you alright?" John turned on his bedside lamp. "Did something happened?"

"I had a nightmare." Sherlock took a deep breath.

"About Elizabeth?" John asked. Sherlock nodded. "Well, what happened?"

"She was covered in piercings and tattoos. She had been drinking and smoking. She was high. She told me she was running away with some boy, and that she wanted money for drugs. And..."

"And, what?" John pressed calmly.

"She told me she was pregnant."

"Oh, Sherlock." John chuckled. Sherlock didn't think it was funny at all. "Is that why you freaked out?"

"It's not funny!" Sherlock snarled. "That wasn't the half of it. I dreamt that you had woken me up from that dream. You said that we were babysitting their child. They named the baby Snake!"

"I'm sorry, Sherlock." John said, still giggling. "It's just hilarious. It is nice, though, to see you finally scared about something."

"I had never even considered something like that happening until now." Sherlock admitted. "Am I neglecting her? Is that why it happened? Am I ignoring her?"

"No, Sherlock, you're a very good father." John assured him. "She loves you."

"But what if that changes?" Sherlock exclaimed, starting to pace. "What if I'm not paying her enough attention, and she decides to try drugs or alcohol? What if she finds a boy, and...?"

"Sherlock," John said soothingly. "Sherlock, calm down. Elizabeth would never do those things. Remember when she stood up to that boy when he tried to get her to sleep with him. She stayed strong in herself. And you have told her plenty of times that you would kill her if she ever even thought about trying drugs. You're not doing anything wrong."

"Am I away too often?" Sherlock continued on like he hadn't even heard John. "Do I need to be home more? I should try to take her to a crime scene now and then."

"Sherlock, a crime scene isn't a place for a teenager, even if she is _your_ daughter." John berated him. "Besides she wants to be a doctor, not a detective. She prefers live people, as do I for that matter."

"That's it!" Sherlock clapped his hands. "She would rather have you as a father! You're around more than I am, you always make her eat and sleep. You're clearly better at raising a child than me."

"No! Sherlock!" John got up and put his hands on the detective's shoulders, forcing him to stop his stressed pacing. "Stop overthinking this. You just had a bad dream. All parents have these dreams about their kids. It means that you care about her, and you worry for her. It means that you want her to have a good life, and you want her to be safe. You are an _amazing_ father, Sherlock Holmes."

"He's right, you know." Both men whirled around to see Elizabeth standing in the doorway. Neither of them had even heard the front door open.

"You weren't supposed to be back until four." Sherlock stated, wondering at how he hadn't heard her come up.

"I came back early because some idiots had brought whiskey. It was getting a little rowdy." Sherlock was relieved and very proud of his girl.

"You didn't want to try any?" John asked, earning a death glare from Sherlock.

"Um, and be grounded until I'm forty?" Elizabeth raised her eyebrows. "No, thanks."

John gave Sherlock a knowing smile, "Well, I'm tired. I don't want to see any more Holmeses until at least after sunrise."

Sherlock made his way back to his room. Elizabeth followed and stood in his doorway.

"You don't have to be worried about me." She said.

"I can't help it, some weird parental instinct." Sherlock remarked, laying on his bed.

"And if it's any consolation," Elizabeth began, "I promise to never, ever have sex."


End file.
